


Unnumber'd Temples

by originally



Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Fighting As Foreplay, M/M, Missing Scene, Other, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 18:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originally/pseuds/originally
Summary: Inanna returns to Valhalla after the fight with Baal.





	Unnumber'd Temples

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stag/gifts).



Woden really needed some better security.

The room was in darkness when I stepped through the starlight and into it. Baal was sitting in front of the window, gazing out over London as he did bicep curls. He was shirtless, sweat sheening the skin of his broad back in the lurid neon glare from outside. Even now, my eyes were drawn to the way his muscles rippled and flexed with each movement. Thunder rumbled in the distance. I took a deep breath, then a step forward.

Baal set the dumbbell down onto the floor and said, in a voice colder than ice, “You got some fucking balls coming back here.”

There were about twenty different comebacks I could make to that, but I bit them back. “It’s important.”

“Is it?” He still didn’t look at me. “Or is it just that you miss getting your dick wet now Daz is in lockup?”

“This is about more than your hurt feelings, Baal,” I said, trying not to wince at how much of a dick I sounded. “Or mine.”

“Yeah?” Baal stood and moved towards me. “I didn’t think feelings were a problem for you.”

For fuck’s sake. We didn’t have time for this. Something wasn’t right with Lucifer’s arrest and I couldn’t help but worry she was in danger. Maybe we all were. And yet he had a way of pushing all my buttons, every time. Knowing even before the words left my mouth that no good could come of it, I said, “I felt that wall you threw me into.”

“There’s another wall here. You get me?”

He was close enough now that I could smell the musk on his skin, the sweat from his workout, his Baal-brand aftershave.

“You wouldn’t,” I said. “There’s no way you’d ruin a mural of your face.”

He growled and made a grab for me, but I slipped into the starlight again and he stumbled.

“Stop pissing about, Inanna.”

“Then stop acting like a brainless thug and listen to me.”

I tried to evade him again, but he was ready for me; the lightning knocked the wind out of me and my back hit the wall hard. He was on me then, pinning my wrists above my head with one of his big hands. I gasped, trying to suck air back into my lungs. Our eyes met for the space of a heartbeat and I saw something fathomless in his, beneath the sparks: an ancient sorrow and an infinite anger. Then he kissed my parted lips.

We’d shared so many kisses before, but none like this. He took the kiss from me, selfishly, his tongue a hostile presence in my mouth. There was no trace of tenderness in a kiss like this, and when his teeth scraped against my lips, I tasted blood. I gasped again, but not from the fight this time. My dick was rock hard and I knew he felt it too when his mouth against mine curved into a smirk.

I used my power to wrench my hands from his grip, and took advantage of his momentary disorientation to flip our positions, pushing him against the wall instead. Then I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him.

Well, no one ever accused me of being a god of wisdom.

His skin was warm under my fingers. I pulled back from the kiss and let my hands drift down over his chest, over solid, unblemished flesh, until I came to the tattoo at his hip. I traced my symbol, each point in turn, and he sagged, like the fight had gone out of him all at once.

“What do you want from me, Inanna?” he whispered. “What the fuck do you want?”

In an instant, possibilities unspooled before me: multiple, infinite, vast. I looked at him and saw a thousand futures, each layered over the other, flickering and shifting like the images in a zoetrope. I wanted to drag him down from his sky-throne into the underworld. I wanted to raze cities together, to burn civilizations to the ground that stood against us. I wanted to drain each other dry, fight our war across the earth, destroy Death for him.

Baal’s fingers closed around my hand; I blinked and there was only him, only this gloomy little room in Woden’s neon monstrosity of a temple.

“You,” I said. “I want you. Please, Baal.”

The sound of his name seemed to galvanise him. He slid his hands into my hair and dragged me into a breathless, dizzying kiss. Static electricity danced across his skin, giving me a thousand tiny shocks. I pushed my leg roughly between his.

“Come the fuck on then,” he said. It wasn’t the most gracious proposition I’ve ever had but I could feel how turned on he was, his cock straining against my thigh. I reached down to cup him through his jeans and he groaned, thrusting wildly against me.

“Can I—”

“Just fucking do it,” he growled, and now I could hear thunder rumbling right above us.

I didn’t need telling twice. I yanked the buttons of his jeans open and pulled them down, gracelessly. We grappled again briefly but I got the upper hand, turning him to face the wall and then dropping to my knees. A shiver went through him as I spread his cheeks and tasted his skin. His scent was strong here and familiarly, dizzyingly hot. I thought of all the times I’d done this before as I licked across his hole. It had been difficult to get him on board at first, back when he was still so angry that he wanted me, still in denial that he might be anything other than perfectly straight. Now I had him at my mercy, pressing in relentlessly with my tongue until he was dripping and gasping and pushing back against me, my name on his lips like a whispered prayer.

He took the first two fingers easily. I looked up to watch him: braced against the wall, his eyes closed beatifically, the neon light rippling across his back as he moved with me. He was beautiful like this, and no one but me had ever seen it. I pressed in the third finger, and then a fourth, my hand almost crushed by how tight he was clenching around it. He whined but didn’t stop the sinuous shift of his hips against me. I barely moved, letting him fuck himself the way he needed. When he grabbed his cock, I reached up and finished him off, then slicked my own cock with the mess from my hand and slid it between his cheeks, pressing my face into his shoulder as I rubbed off against him. Both of us shuddered with the force of my orgasm, and it was a long time before either of us moved.

Eventually, Baal reached down and tugged up his jeans without bothering to clean up.

“This didn’t mean anything,” he said, and all the warmth had fled from his voice all over again. “I’m still not going to help you spring Lucifer, so you might as well fuck off.”

I stepped back. He stayed there, leaning against the wall, his head braced on one of his big arms. I reached out my hand but pulled up short a couple of centimetres from the warm skin of his back. I stood there, frozen, for a long minute. But he was right; I had bigger fish to fry. In the end, I didn’t touch and he didn’t look at me again.

When I left, I didn’t say goodbye.


End file.
